As I grew up, there were a couple of boxes of photographs stored in the living room cabinets that my dad had built. I regularly pulled out these boxes and thumbed through the images of what my dad loved – his family and the mountains. This has obviously influence who I am today.
A couple of years ago, Mom gathered the photos of me from the boxes and brought them too me in an envelope. Soon later Trina had the insight to move them to a classic photo album where they would be better preserved and displayed – an exercise that I did not want to do. Looking though those photographs is like looking though my father’s eyes and I know how much he loved the ones on the other side of the lens.
These photographs now carry a new legacy and the album has become invaluable. We keep this album under a coffee table in our own living room and Molly periodically pulls it out from under a stack of Dr. Seuss, coloring books, and sticker books, and sits in my lap to go through the photos. As we go through the pages she points at a few images and asks “Who’s that?”.
She is starting to comprehend that Daddy and Aunt Jessica were little a little boy and girl once too. Her resemblance to me often leads her to think she is in some of the photos. There are several photos with my sister Jessica, a few with mom, and one with dad carrying me on my shoulders at the Smoky Acres. She always points to that one and asks “Who’s that?” Each time I choke up a bit when I tell her that it is Grandpa Bob, and that it is me that he is on my shoulders when I was little.
Thanks to this and one other photograph that I keep on the dresser in our bedroom of mom, Jess, Dan, dad, Trina, and I camping at Cow Creek, Molly and Leighton will know that they had a Grandpa Bob. It hurts tremendously that they will not experience each other, but they will know who he was and that he would have loved them.